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Two years ago our administration told us not to use gender in our classroom. It had come up when students were asked to pack-up the room for the day–boys putting away materials, girls stacking chairs. It was one of many daily sorts we do, and students self-designated their gender and responsibility, but one student who was questioning their gender felt stuck. We were asked to look at other data when we make groups, be it classroom chores or placement in classes. It was a solid decision that moves us forward in a number of issues–read my post about “the boy problem” here.

When told that gender was no longer being used for groupings, I asked if this was going to be true for sports, too.

It is a complicated issue, but it gets at the heart of problem with using gender as a designation–it offers no path to a solution, except if the problem is gender discrimination.

For the sake of argument, let’s use the stereotype that “boys are physically bigger and stronger than girls” because this has a basis in data. We line up everyone who wants to play basketball and find that for 80% of boys that is true. If a co-ed team was created, 80% of the A-team players would be boys. What, then, to do about the other 20%?

If we stick to gender, we are going to fill the team with sub-par specimens instead of the best players–period–filling up those roster spots. From a tactical standpoint, the coach would want that 20% of stronger girls. A co-ed team.

Let’s add some complexity–skills. Teams have smaller, quicker players with skills that trump size and strength. If the roster was filled with the best players–if the coach was able to evaluate without taking gender into consideration–the team would probably be a diverse group, physically. From a tactical standpoint, a good coach would want the best fifteen players on their squad–size and strength being only one factor.

Note that in that last scenario, other than a concern about discrimination, gender has moved to the side.

What, then, is the issue? Let us take plain bias in evaluating talent off the table–it is a huge one, but this will allow us to look at other, overlooked issues.

The first is equity. Our school has four basketball teams–Boys A, Boys B, Girls A, Girls B. If we went co-ed we could simply have A, B, C and D. Extending the above, let’s assume Team A has an 80:20 split of boys: girls. Let us further assume that Team B has a more equitable ratio, if not the former Girls A 80% taking up the majority of the Team B spots.

Does Team A being mostly boys and Team B being mostly girls create inequity? Typically, our Team A goes to more tournaments, gets the new uniforms, and has a more committed coach. Team B is more developmental–and I would assume Team C and Team D would be more so. As the majority of girls are on the lower teams (even on Team B), the majority of girls would get less. At least with a Boys A and a Girls A schools can easily count dollars spent, games played and the like.

The real issue here is the purpose of the sports program in the first place: The eternal debate–winning vs. participation. For those hoping to be the best, they need to play the best. On the court, you want the best players regardless of gender. Those who are not in the top fifteen need development.

Equity means respecting development. Players on Team B should be striving to earn a spot on Team A. Instead of focusing on winning games, though, that program needs to focus on development of the player. This requires participation and good instruction. Equity falls away when players are no longer pushed. Team C and Team D should be the same, even as they are even more elementary in terms of skills and development.

When players are on the team where they are, the system is equitable.

Bias. Of course, this is only possible when bias in evaluation is taken off the table. But parents get ugly when it comes to sports. When teams are by gender, parent after parent still finds a reason their kid is being held back, not on Team A or riding the bench too often. One coach a town over, after a win, was confronted by a spreadsheet wielding parent, recording time played by each player and a quibble over a two minute variance (the coach scheduled roles and times prior to the game, except the fourth quarter so he’d have flexibility if the game was close). He moved to absolute equity the next game, lost, but no parents complained (the players were not as happy). Whoa the burden coach’s kid actually being good, but constantly being told they got their spot because of bias.

Add gender and the result is explosive.

In the data world they call this issue “the signal in the noise.” The signal is the problem–finding the best players and playing them to win–while biases are the noise. We identify gender as an easy way to categorize people. We notice it. Evolutionary, we are built to recognize patterns as a means of survival. But our intuition can cause us to fall to, create and reinforce stereotypes. We create more noise, and lose the signal. Every stereotype has some truth at its core, but it ultimately binds the person it is being done to–we put the person in a box. And, it makes others blind to the real problem and its solution.

In the case of those 20% of boys who do not get spots on Team A because there are girls who are better, gender now becomes a factor. A battle to be fought. This is where cries of political correctness and reverse discrimination become issues, not what is best for the players.

The issue, then, is dealing with this bias. Notice how, over several paragraphs, we have moved away from the stereotype of boys being more physically able than girls and are now talking about bias and equity. Dealing with equity is hard. It requires education and community support. It requires a commitment, so that it becomes, over time, the norm. “You are on Team B because you need to develop skills X, Y and Z.”

That we shy from implementing this tells us something about our values as a school and community. Schools need to set the standard against bias in all forms. They cannot do this when their institution underscores this in the group representing them to the larger community–wearing uniforms with the logo across their chest and being photographed for the paper.

The way forward. There are plenty of obstacles to move forward. Looking at basketball, girls use a different ball. But people adapt. Until seventh grade girls playing recreational lacrosse did so with boys, with full contact rules. When they were segregated, playing by girls’ limited contact rules, most felt it was a step back. These girls were ready to hit.

One step is to desegregate those sports without such conflicts. There is no reason I know to have separate cross country races for boys and girls. Wrestling, golf and typically single-gender sports (football, field hockey) should be gender-free, too.

It should be noted that, through most of schooling, the physical size and natural abilities waxes and wanes. A small kid one year comes back from summer break having grown half a foot. The kid with no balance suddenly catches up. As educators, we should be embracing a growth mindset. If only K-8 schools embrace a gender-free athletic process it will create a foundation for growth. There is no reason not to.

Finally, schools should focus on both winning and development, but the second part is key. Having a Team A, with the understanding that it is competitive, is important in giving an aspirational goal for all. Those on the team need to accept that, in being on that team, they might sit. But practices should be developmental. And Teams B, C and D should be levels of development. There is room for both those who compete and those who just want to play. The emphasis is on work and commitment, and from that comes growth and joy.

While a bunch of us were chatting, our administrator noted how all of the discipline cases he is dealing with are boys. He then noted how most of our failing students are also boys, and that most of our top students are girls. Not alone in this observation, he pondered what is perennially proposed: A different program for boys than girls.

Bad idea.

The problem of using gender to model programs is that it offers no path to a solution, except if the problem is gender discrimination.

In the data world they call this issue “the signal in the noise.” The signal is the problem–behavior and academic achievement–while classifications (gender, race, age) are the noise. We identify the boy problem because gender is an easy way to categorize people. We notice it. Evolutionary, we are built to recognize patterns as a means of survival. But our intuition can cause us to fall to, create and reinforce stereotypes. We create more noise, and lose the signal. Every stereotype has some truth at its core, but it ultimately binds the person it is being done to–we put the person in a box. And, it makes others blind to the real problem and its solution.

To say that our school does not serve boys is to say that there is only one way to be a boy. It’s a box we put people in. For the sake of argument, let’s use the stereotype that “boys need movement.” And let’s say that 80% of boys need movement. That leaves us missing 20%. And if the needs are reversed for girls–only 20% need movement–that leaves that group missing out, too Everyone is in a box.

Instead, we might build a program around students needing movement, and another program(s) around something else. Now, those student who need it (half) get movement. That 20% of non-movement boys are now free to pursue their needs, along with 80% of the girls. Win-win.

We track gender, race, SES and the like for two reasons. First, some elements of an identified group we can address–SES kids, by definition, need to be fed. But that use is limited. Second, we identify groups because some have been discriminated against, historically. That was the reason NCLB required those designations. When a group comes up short, this provides a place for schools to start the conversation–is the cause discrimination?

After that has been answered in the negative (hopefully) the use of such designations should then move to characteristics of the individual students in question and their needs. Why are these students getting into trouble? How large an issue is that, and how can it be addressed? In looking back at NCLB the one area that using the data made a big difference was with SES students. Interestingly, the solution was like the 80:20 above–many needed something the school was not providing (but not all), and some non-SES students benefited from those same programs. Win-win. It was not because of discrimination, but in starting there schools took a fresh look at a problem and identified the true root cause. Focusing on gender instead places the needs of some on the larger demographic while excluding others–it is not an efficient solution and can create new problems.

So what is our school’s problem? We are too indulgent. In our desire to provide to students what they need to succeed we have failed to hold them accountable. We take off limits but do not demand responsibility as part of the bargain. For example, I allowed music last fall because students benefited as it canceled out distracting noise. Now, it is the distraction. And music has creeped into other activities and classrooms. Snacks have become meals. Fidgets have become toys. Water and bathroom breaks are a right. In the end, I should have a product. Not always. In opening the barn door first I have now set up my enforcement of academics as conflict, not an inspired goal. Too often, the work reflects this shift in tone from support to scold. The exception is the rule. We indulge.

We have reached the tipping point: As we approach 20% of students being an exception, the exception becomes the rule. When music left the classroom, using during essay writing only, it became an exception. As 20% of classrooms had exceptions (hats, music, no lines, snacks) it becomes harder to hold to the rule.

There are two fixes for this. The first is to hold the rule. No hats. No music. Lines. The second is to add responsibility and accountability to the privilege. Currently, we ask nothing in return for privilege. Why? Because monitoring it is difficult and it sets up conflict. But that’s exactly how we creep towards the tipping point–we let those with the least amount of respect for others redefine the rule. When those 20% change expectations the number of rules pushed grow and the number of students breaking them grows, too.

Those kids are defending by packs of adults, all justifying why they need it and apologizing for transgressions. It’s not the exception that is the problem, but the transgression and accountability. We are starting with an assumption that this thing bestowed–music, gum, movement–is a right to be taken away, not a privilege to be earned. This is the exact opposite of how the adult world works–the most responsible gets the privileges while those lacking control either get few rewards or confinement. And we excuse them in academics, too, for the same reasons. We are doing these kids a disservice.

All of this is hard. You can’t penalize a kid for the lack of structure provided up until the moment they cross a line. The Responsive and Developmental Design programs offer those systems and protocols, but they require time and commitment from the group.

I would argue that it appears boys are the problem because success involves awareness and impulse control. Boys seem to have more of a problem with this, but they are not alone. Because society excuses much of it based on stereotypes (“boys will be boys” and “you can’t expect a boy to sit for an hour”) they hear that and internalize it. When we lean on punishment, though, we are teaching students not to be caught. Our data does not account for those who appear to follow rules but who skate the line constantly–take a census of how many are not where most of their peers are, or doing outlier behaviors, and you’ll find “they have permission.” Plus, we have behaviors that are more personal, and do not affect others. Even with academics, Tier II is filled with those who flail openly and dramatically. When we stop looking at the major behavior data, but instead account for minor behaviors and any deviations from the rule, a true picture of our ailments become clear. The solution is not movement but accountability to norms and earned privilege.

Schools are not the only organizations with a host of constituents demanding varied needs be met, but they offer a great case study. I have broken these steps into two distinct parts: Theoretical and Building. Both are essential to success over 180 days.

Warning: It is easy to skip steps, especially the theoretical. This groundwork is essential for the building portion to work. Otherwise, you’ve got a “Blind Men and the Elephant” scenario. Check out Part One here.

Part Two: Building: The mistake here is to see this as blocks needing to be stacked. It’s true, in a sense, but when that mental shift happens the schedule produced becomes a series of pounding square pegs into round holes; lots of edges feel the rub. At the same time, the water metaphor no longer works because a rigid line is needed in order to truly understand what works and what only seems to work (but, in the details, things are lost).

5. Schedule Everything: The big things become clear, and often have minor compromises; nothing is harder to roll with than additional surprises. Often, these surprises are more disruptive than the larger issues. For example, the one grade level at our school had 4.5 hours a day with students, or 22.5 hours in a week. Band and Chorus was scheduled for three 40 minute blocks, or 2 hours, for 2/3 of our students (the remaining 1/3 were left for the teachers to plan for). That left 20.5 hours of instruction for all kids. Seems reasonable, except instrument lessons pull an additional 4 hours, and those are small clumps of kids that come-and-go at odd, rotating times–very disruptive. When you craft the schedule, and put in 6 plus hours of music, it paints a very different picture.

But the time culprits are many: Guidance, mentors, Tier II, Special Ed….. Each needs to pencil in a projected time. The guidance counselor, for example, knows a bunch of his caseload. If a special 3-4th grade block was identified based on expected need and time outside of non-negotiable times, that service would have a solid place to start and flexibility moving into September.

6. Populate the Schedule: Without a dry run, the schedule is an estimate. That leads to grey areas, but grey areas add up to black over the course of the process. While you might not have placement, you do know how many kids get pulled for X, Y and Z and can make reasonable assumptions about where they go. For several years, one grade level had two sections of World Language–one French and one Spanish. Then, the population bumped up. It was a surprise that there needed to be three WL classes, not two as there had been. That meant one Spanish and two French, which drove the UA groups, that had been driven by the homerooms–see, dominoes. With each grade picturing their day–if not walking through it–many of the unexpected bits come into play. Account for every kid and location.

7. Dry Run the Schedule: Even if each grade level imagines the day instead of physically walking through it, that’s something. Did you take into account transition time? The time it takes to put on snowsuits and take them off is substantial, especially if UA proceeds and follows recess. For example, one grade’s schedule has kids go from UA to recess, which works well, but when they need their Chromebooks for UA after recess they go to the room, undress, get Chromebooks and walk to UA–five to ten minutes lost in a 40 minutes class. Run the schedule in winter and warmer months, or whatever demands change in your locale.

8. All Teachers Sign Off: Every year, groups are asked to look and report back on if it works. Every year, most people do. But some don’t. A few yeas ago, no lunch was scheduled for UA in the frenzy of crafting something that works; adjusting for it made the schedule a kludge, but since it was June everyone just went with it. These things were not caught until after the schedule was set. Everyone was mad at the group all year for the compromises. Pet Peeve: There is often a member of the staff that claims to be helpless, and the nurturing environment of a school bends over backwards to accommodate, even as that person is rigid in their not being proactive or bending in retrospect. Ugh. At least with a signature, there is no buck-passing and everyone is forced to take some ownership of their part in the process.

9. First Schedule Wins (Bad): We like to believe the process is open and cooperative, but in reality the first schedule that works for 3/4 of the school rules. Even with compelling arguments against it, little more than tweaks occur. For that reason, the first few rules above are essential. They need to be concrete as possible, and drive planning.

One way to counter this is to present multiple, diverse schedules. Presented with three very different ways of doing something, people will see the possibilities, even when the schedule just doesn’t work. By then going and adapting the best of several, you not only get more good ideas, but everyone sees how what was chosen is not the first presented, but the best of otherwise flawed plans. It is otherwise easy to find fault without being tasked with a solution.

Every group needs to feel empowered. There are a few ways to do this. For example, allow each group to have the power to veto at each step, but once a step is adopted they lose that power. So, if 90 minutes of literacy is a non-negotiable and adopted, the schedule bends to that even if means other desires are compromised when the final schedule comes out. Each group should also have the power to create an alternative schedule. Whatever, but something needs to happen to counter the “First Schedule Wins” problem.

Schools are not the only organizations with a host of constituents demanding varied needs be met, but they offer a great case study. I have broken these steps into two distinct parts: Theoretical and Building. Both are essential to success over 180 days.

Warning: It is easy to skip steps, especially the theoretical. This groundwork is essential for the building portion to work. Otherwise, you’ve got a “Blind Men and the Elephant” scenario. Still, you can check out Part 2 here.

Part One: Theoreticals: At this point of development, the schedule is like a river: Water is fluid, bends around anything and fills every crevice. Much like time. Here, you will begin to construct the vessel that contains it (beginning with Start and End times of the day) and identifying those impediments it needs to flow around.

1. Vision: The schedule is a physical manifestation of the vision. For example, if you want certain people to collaborate they need the same preps. Or, if starting the day with a Restorative Justice circle in homeroom is important, than the day cannot begin before 8:20, so teacher have at least 15 minutes to start the day right. Make a list of the vision(s) in all respects and then figure what elements of the schedule facilitate that.

2. Recognize What’s Just Tradition: Much of the schedule is the remnants of old visions, initiatives and needs. In keeping what worked this year, we often perpetuate other patterns that no longer drive the schedule. For example, we had Art scheduled on a day that worked for the part-time Art teacher, who worked at other schools on other days–when her situation changed, no one thought of changing the day. Spending time just messing with assumptions both helps question how things are done and opens up new possibilities. Often, these are impediments to work around that people do not even realize they are accommodating for; removing them frees up possibilities. Even those that are preferential may not be as non-negotiable as an issue that comes up later than is mission critical to members.

3. Plan for Two Years (at Least): The class sizes are clear–if the 3rd grade needs three teachers, the 4th grade will need it next year. You should also account for what the 4th grade looks like the year after, too. Which class sizes are close to a bust (so that three kids moving in in August requires an additional teacher, classroom and the like), or might not be sustainable (i.e., that teach could be moved to a grade that needs her more)? Plan teams, room assignments and the like towards that. Also, think how part time staff will be used over that time. It may not seem directly related to the schedule, but a) planning two years makes you be realistic about next year, and b) most schedules go south because small, unexpected changes that happen before September 15. Best be ready.

4. Define Non-negotiables: What are bedrock points, that no one can touch. For example, at one point 60 minutes of Math and 90 minutes of Literacy a day were non-negotiable in the schedule. For any grade level, I would advocate for 3 hours a day uninterrupted–no lessons, pull-outs or other distractions; we are guaranteed all of our kids for that period of time. Class size might be another (Art can only hold 25 students physically in the room).

Part Two: Building: The mistake here is to see this as blocks needing to be stacked. It’s true, in a sense, but when that mental shift happens the schedule produced becomes a series of pounding square pegs into round holes; lots of edges feel the rub. At the same time, the water metaphor no longer works because a rigid line is needed in order to truly understand what works and what only seems to work (but, in the details, things are lost).

One way is to use a rubric. It’s cold and fair, giving a score on where each falls on the assignment. Aligned with the Common Core and it objectively shows if a student is on grade level. But, if you have heterogeneous classes, how can you push that scoring to better reflect progress, disincentivise coasting and add more options to your differentiated offerings?

Elo ratings.

Think sports. On a traditional scoreboard, one team earns a win and the other earns a loss–it does not matter if the teams are evenly matched, mismatched, or how close the score is. After the match, one team is 1-0 and the other 0-1. Those of us who have watched underdogs come close–or triumph–know that the score does not always reflect what happened on the field. Elo weighs those factors and results.

The Elo rating system is a method for calculating the relative skill levels of players in competitor-versus-competitor games. Created by Arpad Elo, a Hungarian-born American physics professor, it was originally used for chess. It has been adapted for other competitive sports, including football and soccer.

In short, Elo ratings give a score to two competitors prior to a match based on their ability, and update scores based on new results. Let’s say a poor team goes against a very good one. Intuitively, we expect the poor team to lose. If the poor team loses, their Elo score goes down, but not by much–no surprise in the results. The very good team rises in Elo, but, also, not by much–again, no surprise. We expect that outcome.

If, though, the poor team wins, they get a bunch of points in the Elo, and the good team loses a bunch. The poor team earns more in a victory than the very good team because their victory required playing above their norm.

If you use a more advanced algorithm, Elo can also account for the closeness in a score. If the poor team should have lost by a huge margin, but the game is close, their points lost are minimal–it recognizes they played above their norm. Similarly, the points gained by the very good team are also minimal, even with a win, because it should have been a blow-out.

Student Scores, Assignments and Differentiation

In using a rubric with a scale of 1 to 4, the struggling student will inevitably earn a 2. That score is accurate, but does not take into account risk, progress or the difficulty of the task. Similarly, a high achieving student typically collects 3s and 4s. No surprise. It is the sports equivalent of being 0-1 or 1-0.

With Elo the struggling student can score against the assignment, earning more for tackling one more difficult–even if they fall short. So, if a student who typically earns a 2 does well on a particularly difficult assignment, they might earn a personal score of 2.5. In addition, if the high flyer decides to coast, their scores will not be as stellar as if they chose a harder assignment. Perhaps, a 3.5 personal score instead of an automatic 4.

Not that the rubric should go out the window–that is the objective measure. It would make sense to have two scores–a cold rubric to have a norm, plus an Elo personal score. The former would be the equivalent of the scoreboard, the latter the classic Elo. This personal score would show the struggle.

Many teachers already offer differentiated assignments. Now, they can make it clear what each’s is score. Students could choose based not only on interest, but challenge.

Even more advanced, teachers could offer their normal assignments and use student scores to rate the assignment’s difficulty–the scores of various students would weigh it in relation to other students. There is a bit of bell-curve to this, but that’s why the Elo is for the personal score.

Elo Teacher Scoring

Another application is in balancing grades across varying teachers.

When a local high school implemented Proficiency Based Learning (PBL), and Proficiency Based Grading (PBG, aka SBG) it did not go smoothly. Those teachers who embraced the formative/summative model tended to produce higher grades, on average, than teachers who clung to the older rating system. At issue was the lead-up to assessments, supports and allowance of retakes in the PBL classes–with the emphasis on mastery, all that mattered was getting it in the end. Those old-school teachers tended to use one-and-done assessments, average everything into the grade, dock points for late assignments, and use a 100 points scale.

Whatever your position on PBL and PBS the debate exposed the age-old debate of “easy” teachers vs. the old-school hard -ss. As GPA becomes more and more important for college acceptance (even if that is only a teenager’s perception) many students are avoiding hard graders and hard classes because of real and perceived grading discrepancies. That’s a crime.

But what if teachers were graded using the Elo? Each class could be averaged for GPA and an Elo assigned to that teacher based on that average. Then, when a student earns a grade in that course, a second Elo score is used to indicate relative difficulty of the teacher. A more advanced algorithm might take into account individual student GPA in relation to each class’ earned grade. And even adjust teacher Elo based on that. If not on the transcript, it might at least give administrators and teachers an idea of grade inflation or deflation. Correlated with other measures–SAT and the like–it might show which teachers make students earn their learning, and which are just difficult.

For years educators have been advocating for smaller class sizes. It’s a noble long term goal, but it is also an example of how a myopic focus one issue can blind people to the big picture, especially in the short term. And it reinforces the notion that choices means losing something in order to gain.

When they sat down in May to create a schedule for the following year, Grace Have School, a K-8, had smaller classes sizes at the top of their list. Unfortunately, the primary class sizes were locked. There were a set number of students (s), and, when the budget was crafted, the number of classroom teachers was determined (t). The formula was simple:

s/t = c

Because each primary class gets a teacher assigned to them, that class is one section. In Grace Haven’s case, they had 500 students and 25 full time faculty for core instruction. That resulted in classes of 20, on average.

Of course, averages are a funny thing as, in the real world of education, they often do not give an accurate picture of the situation. The administration had decided to have smaller classes in the K-2 and much larger classes in the middle school. But, the formula holds: If you know two of the variables, the third is a given. So, if you want a different outcome (i.e., even smaller classes sizes) you need to change the other two variables by shrinking your student population or hiring more teachers.

The Specials, though, had more flexibility. Because PE, Art, Music, Health and such could be untethered from the core classroom, they had an opportunity to control their class sizes because they could change the number of sections they offered. By changing the number of sections, they were, essentially, adding teachers.

To understand this, let’s juggle the formula a bit:

s/c = t

Students (s) remains the same: 500. That leaves the World Language teacher with a range: She could teach one section (c) of 500 (s), or 500 sections with a single student in it. Both are ridiculous, but you can hopefully see the sliding range.

At present, each Specials teacher had 25 sections with 20 kids in each section. Over five days, that meant 5 sections a day.

But the desire was to having smaller class sizes for a number of reasons; one of them being that fewer students meant more hands-on chances for each one. It was solid pedagogy. So, they aimed for 15 in a class. Punch that into the formula:

500/15 = 33.3.

Let’s assume that’s only 33 needed, with a couple of classes having 16 students. Still, in order to have the desired class size each Special would have to offer 33 sections. Instead of 5 sections a day, they were now looking at 6.6 sections a day. Yikes!

That, anyway, was the reaction of the faculty. The gain of 1.6 new sections a day did not only mean they would be teaching more, or that each of those sections needed to be prepped for. No, the gain of 1.6 classes also meant the LOSS of 1.6 prep periods. So, more sections to prep for and less time to do so.

The Specials were caught unaware. Unfortunately, by the time people realized the trade-off the schedule had gone further down the road. Attempts to undo the damage were met by others on the committee with annoyance, and their pointing out that they were losing preps garnered little sympathy from primary teachers who had few to begin with. In the end, they wound up with a difficult schedule.

Lesson: With limited resources (time, bodies), choices are trade-offs. Know what you are giving up for what is gained. Is your gain greater than your loss? Go in eyes-open.